It's Not My Life Anymore
by VictorianChik
Summary: Movie-Verse! Four months after the battle, Sam struggles to take control of his life. He finds it difficult with a team of Autobots watching his every move, a stern captain on his back, oblivious parents, and a hot girlfriend who just wants him to be safe
1. Chapter 1 The Drive

AN: I've seen _Transformers_ a dozen times, and I love the movie, love everything about it. So I thought I would write this story. I'm not sure how long it will be or even if it will be longer. Though I really would love to write about Captain Lenox . . .

This is movie-verse, and I apologize because I haven't read or seen anything else about the fandom. For those of you who haven't seen the movie, but like to follow my writing, please see the movie or at least read a brief synopsis of it or you will be lost, spoiled, or both. As stated in the story, this takes place four months after the movie ended.

Disclaimer: I do not own, and I encourage all of you to go see the second movie when it comes out Summer 2009.

Rating: PG-13, not for anything really, but I always make my stuff PG-13 on principle.

--

"Oh, man, I'm late," Sam jerked the door open and jumped inside the seat, turning on the engine even before the door was shut.

Throwing his cellphone on the passenger's seat, he tried to put the car into gear.

"Seatbelt," Bumblebee growled at him.

Sam frowned at the dashboard; he wasn't exactly sure where Bumblebee's head went to when he turned into the Camaro, but he directed his disgruntled expression towards the front of the car.

Knowing Bumblebee was a stickler for safety, Sam pulled the seatbelt across his chest and buckled it. "There, can we go now?"

"Did you adjust the mirrors?" the car rumbled below him.

"Come on, man," Sam frowned even deeper, "I'm late. You're here. Why does it matter what the mirrors look like? You won't let me get in an accident."

"You humans have rules for the road," Bumblebee insisted. "You have to obey these rules, or you get pulled over by the authorities. I am not having you pulled over by the authorities."

"Jeez," Sam struck the steering wheel, "who are you? Optimus Prime?"

"I am not having you arrested and then Optimus finding out about it."

Sam thought about hitting the wheel again, but he knew Bumblebee was such a pain about stuff like this, having an incredible fear that Sam would be hauled off by the authorities. Just to save time, Sam grabbed the rearview mirror and jiggled it slightly until he could see everything out the back.

"Done, and side mirrors are fine," he reported.

"Have you been drinking alcohol or taken medication or done anything that would impair your driving?"

"Aw, come on!" Sam flopped his head back against the headrest. "Do _you_ want to drive?"

"No, you may drive, but only if you are a responsible diver."

"I don't drink," Sam insisted. "I'm aware, I'm awake, and now I'm late to see Mikaela. I told her two o'clock, and it's already ten 'til."

"She will understand," Bumblebee promised. The gear stick moved into drive, and Sam grabbed the wheel and stepped on the gas petal. As the car squealed out of his parents' driveway, he heard Bumblebee grumble, "Slower, Sam."

Scowling, Sam just watched the road. So annoying when Bumblebee went into these moods, when he took his "guardianship" so seriously though the danger was over and the Decepticons were no longer a threat. Probably Optimus Prime's influence on Bumblebee – the big Autobot had this overbearing sense of right and wrong, and even four months after the battle against the Decepticons, Optimus Prime kept on his team (and Sam) to uphold all their moral values. Which for Sam meant being a total goody-two-shoes, a dork that could have walked off the set of the Waltons.

Once he got on the highway to Mikaela's house, Sam kept his foot on the gas, pushing the yellow Camaro faster and faster.

"You're past the speed limit," Bumblebee warned.

"By like two miles," Sam scoffed. The road was straight, smooth, and practically begged for cars to exceed the limit on it. Sam grabbed the sunglasses that hung from his collar and put them on. His glasses weren't as nice as his car, but he had been unable to convince any Autobot to give him money to buy an expensive pair. He was sure they could find money somewhere – heck, they could tell Captain Lenox they needed money for something, and the man would probably sent a briefcase full of cash within an hour. But Optimus Prime had remained firm.

"Why do you need another pair of sunglasses when you have that pair?" the blue/red Autobot had demanded.

"I have a cool car, I need cool glasses," Sam had replied, but Optimus Prime would not listen, and Sam was still wearing his 15-dollar sunglasses.

"Slow down," Bumblebee insisted. "This is your last warning."

"My last warning?" Sam scoffed. "What, you're my babysitter now?"

He pushed his foot down on the petal, causing the car to speed up, now a good 10 miles over the limit.

And then the engine died.

Sam felt it cut off, not even rumbling or slowly dying, just cutting off abruptly. The car kept going, but eased to the side of the road. Sam felt furious – he knew that a lecture was coming, and hell if he'd stick around for it. The moment the car slowed enough, he yanked off his seatbelt, flung open the door, and scrambled out of the car. The hot air rushed over him, but it only spurred his fury on to get away from Bumblebee.

He was walking on a divided highway, but only two lanes on each side with plenty of room on the shoulder so Sam knew he wouldn't get hit. As he stalked away from his car, Sam was careful to keep far away from the lanes as possible. The Autobots would not be pleased with him putting himself in danger, even if he was furious at Bumblebee.

He heard an engine behind him, and he knew without looking around that Bumblebee was following him on the shoulder of the road. Sam tried to walk faster, but of course, the car easily kept up. Sam thought about breaking into a run, but that would be stupid. The Camaro could go over 120 miles an hour while he could run up to about 6. Sam wished Bumblebee would turn into a bicycle – Sam was sure he could outrun a bicycle.

He turned to stalk off the asphalt, but before he could step on the dry grass, a horn blared behind him. Sam huffed, but he stayed on the asphalt. Bumblebee didn't honk at him often, but when he did, Sam knew he had to listen. Optimus would be mad if he heard Sam had started trekking through the California brush on his own, with Bumblebee unable to follow him in his automobile form.

The heat on the highway was burning, and Sam knew he must look completely ridiculous, walking along the edge of the road with his car following him. Cars kept speeding by him, and Sam guessed they thought he was guiding a broken down car down the side. With the windows tinted, Sam knew they couldn't see inside to realize there was no driver.

The highway fell silent for a moment, and Sam could hear Bumblebee drive a little close.

"Sam."

Sam kept walking straight ahead. He was already late; he should call Mikaela to tell her he would be late because his car was being a total jerk, but he had left his cellphone in the car. He knew if he turned around to demand his phone, Bumblebee would insist he get back inside.

"Sam."

Sweat trickled down Sam's forehead, but he swiped at it hastily as he stalked on.

"Samuel."

Sam jerked to a stop and whirled back. He wasn't quite sure how, but the Camaro looked displeased, the front fender pulled down into a frown.

"Get in the car," Bumblebee said to him though Sam still couldn't see his face.

"Are you going to let me drive?" Sam demanded, crossing his arms.

"No, I will drive and take you to Mikaela."

"I'm not getting in unless you let me drive," Sam argued.

"Samuel Witwicky," Bumblebee's usually friendly voice was stern, "we are on a highway where you could get hit by another car, and I am not arguing with you. Get in."

Sam kept his arm crossed, trying to stare down the car. Hearing nothing else, Sam turned to keep walking.

The passenger door of the Camaro flew open, and something wrapped around his waist and yanked him back. Before Sam could figure out exactly what had grabbed him, he was jerked into the passenger seat of the car. The door slammed, the seat belt strapped over him, and the car started.

"Oh, screw this," Sam jerked at the seatbelt with one hand while the other pulled on the door handle. "Let me out."

The seatbelt would not budge, the door was locked fast, and the Camaro was driving back on the road. Sam felt anger burning inside him, but the AC came on, blowing cool air over him as he sat trapped in the passenger seat of his own car. As they drove down the highway, Sam began to calm. He wasn't sure why he burst into such anger; he seemed to be having trouble with his temper, ever since that day of the battle when he had tried to run the Cube up to the roof, when he had stood against the pillar, sure Megatron would throw him to his death to street below.

Refusing to remember the terror of that day, Sam glanced around the car for his cellphone. He couldn't see it, he wasn't sitting on it, and he was not asking Bumblebee what happened to his phone. The clock read 2:09 already, and by the time they pulled up to Mikaela's house, it was 2:21.

She was standing out on the sidewalk, in a denim mini skirt and a tank top, and her baggy purse flung over one shoulder. She was looking off in the distance, but she turned when she heard the car and smiled slowly as the Camaro pulled up to her, showing all her white teeth. She opened the passenger door and froze when she saw Sam in the seat.

"Um," she ducked to look over to the empty driver's seat, "didn't feel like driving today?"

"Get into the driver's seat," Bumblebee said quietly.

She looked down at Sam, but he turned away, refusing to meet her eyes or explain why they were late. Going around the front, she got into the driver's seat. The Camaro pulled forward, heading towards the mall where Sam and Mikaela were spending the afternoon, she needing to look for some new clothes and he agreeing to tag along, mainly for the hope of seeing her try on bathing suits. Mikaela did not touch the steering wheel, keeping her feet back from the petals to let Bumblebee drive.

After a minute of silence, Mikaela leaned towards Sam. "Hey," she whispered, "are you two fighting again?"

"No, he's being a jackass," Sam hissed back. "He wouldn't let me go a mile over the speed limit."

Mikaela pressed her lips together sympathetically, reaching over to touch the side of his sweaty face. "We get to the mall, and I promise I'll make it up to you."

"No kissing in the mall," Bumblebee said in a normal voice.

"Hey, give us some privacy," Sam snapped.

Mikaela laughed, leaning back against her seat. "Bumblebee, we've made out on your hood. I let him get to second base. Now, we can't kiss in a mall? Our chaperon's getting strict, I guess."

Sam tried to smile; she made everything easier, make him want to relax, but right now he still felt upset.

Mikaela pulled the visor down and looked into the mirror, brushing her bangs back. As the cool AC blew over both of them, Sam watched her primping in the mirror, like she didn't already look so pretty and sexy.

He wasn't sure how he liked her sitting in the driver's seat – he wasn't chauvinistic, he wanted to think, but it _was_ his car, after all. Well, maybe it was Bumblebee, but Sam had paid 2000 for the 1977 Camaro that had turned into an Autobot which had turned into this super cool, new Camaro. No one at school believed he got the car until he showed them, and they were all impressed, except for Mikaela's old boyfriend who was just jealous.

They pulled up to the front of the mall, and the car stopped as Bumblebee said, "Okay, I'll be back out here at five-thirty sharp."

"We're not eleven," Sam snapped, but Mikaela elbowed him.

"We were going to meet with the Autobots by eight," she reminded him as she tucked her purse over her shoulder. "And don't we want to eat first?"

"Fine, we'll be back then," Sam agreed reluctantly. His seatbelt clicked free, and he and Mikaela got out of the car. Sam stuck his hands in his pocket as he started for the glass door, but Mikaela wrapped her hands around one of his arms, leaning against him as they walked towards the mall.

"Cheer up," she whispered, her breath tickling his ear. "It's not like he will really know what we do in the mall. As long as we're back by five-thirty, we're free to do all the kissing we like."

She giggled, and he managed to smile as they walked into the cool mall and the empty Camaro drove away from the front entrance.


	2. Chapter 2 The Mall

Disclaimer: I do not own any of this.

--

The mall was a pretty cool place to hang out, Sam thought. It had only been the last two years that his parents had started letting him go by himself, but now that he had his own car, driving to the mall was even cooler. With Mikaela coming with him, Sam felt pretty awesome.

"Stop that," Mikaela leaned against his arm and lightly swatted his chest.

"Stop what?" Sam asked.

"Stop looking all arrogant and self-assured," Mikaela smiled. "Yes, you have a nice car and a very hot girlfriend –"

"Who's arrogant now?" he teased.

"But no one likes a jerk," she grinned as she squeezed his arm. "And when we get back, apologize to Bumblebee."

"He started it," Sam objected. "I was ready to come get you, but he was being a nag about everything. 'Buckle up, drive slower, stop walking on the highway' –"

"The highway?" Mikaela yanked to a stop, pulling him back with her. "Why were you walking on the highway?"

"He wouldn't let me drive fast," Sam tried to sound convincing, but Mikaela pressed her lips together.

"Sam, he just wants you to be safe. You were pretty banged up after the final fight. We both were."

"Yeah, and they let you go to a rescue tent to get treated and Ratchet let the army female doctor check on you. I had to strip to my boxers so Ratchet could examine me."

"But Captain Lennox and Sergeant Epps were checked with you," Mikaela tried to hide her smile. That was one of the things she loved about Sam – his disgruntled complaining every so often that made him endearing and never overly-confident. Mikaela was done with know-it-all boyfriends.

"Oh, that was fun," Sam groused. "Standing in my boxers next to Lennox and Epps, the military guys and I look like a computer geek. Their arms were bigger than my whole body!"

Mikaela laughed out loud.

"It's not funny," Sam went on. "Those guys were all in shape, and Ratchet kept pointing out was wrong with me and how I needed to be careful because I could really hurt myself, and I knew Epps was smirking the whole time though Lennox told him to – mph!"

Sam ended abruptly as Mikaela pushed him back behind a pillar and kissed him quickly, her lips warm and soft against him.

"There," Mikaela whispered, "do you feel better now?"

"Yeah," Sam softly. He leaned forward for another kiss, but she leaned back.

"Bumblebee said no making out," she teased.

"No one can see us," Sam protested. "Just kiss me again, and I promise I won't tell."

"Let's find an empty hallway," Mikaela grabbed his hand.

They disappeared down the hall to the bathrooms and rounded the corner that led to the service entrance.

No one was around, and Sam pressed Mikaela up against the wall as they started making out. She did this thing with her tongue, flicking it over his lips that drove him half-crazy, and he kept grabbing at her shoulders and hair and hips, anything to hold on while she pushed him to the edge of his senses.

"Hey, break it up," a stern voice said from behind Sam. He whirled to find a security guard frowning at them, tapping his stick against his arm.

In a panic, Sam dashed down the hall, going ten or twelve paces before he realized that Mikaela wasn't following. Turning back, Sam saw Mikaela standing with the guard, rolling her eyes at his flight. Sam guiltily came back and heard Mikaela apologizing,

"I'm sorry, sir. My boyfriend's all horny these days, and he thought it would be fun to make out in a public place. It won't happen again."

"This is a place for people to shop," the guard said gruffly. "It's not a joint for kids to hook up."

"I know. And I do come here to shop. This top and this purse – I bought them here," she gestured to her things. "Please don't ban us from coming here. I need to buy a pair of shoes today."

The guard looked skeptical, but nodded. "Okay, I can let you go, but you're going to have to call your parents and tell them what happened."

Sam froze, but Mikaela calmly took out her phone.

"Sam's parents are out of town and he's staying with me," she explained. "But I'll tell my parents."

Sam wanted to remind her that she didn't have parents to call – her mother had run off and her father was in prison. Mikaela had been in foster care, but after the battle against the Decepticons, the authorities had moved her into a house with several other military orphans. It was an okay place to live, but Sam doubted the housemother there would do want to hear that Mikaela had been caught making out in the mall.

Mikaela dialed a number and held the phone up to her ears.

"Hello?" a male voice answered.

"Hey, Dad, it's Mikaela."

"What?" the man voice sounded uncertain.

"I'm at the mall," she said quickly. "Sam and I got caught kissing in the hallway, and the security guard wanted me to call you and tell you that."

"O-kay," Sam could hear the man answer slowly.

"I'm going to buy some shoes and then I'll come straight home with Sam. I'm sorry, Dad, and I know we'll talk about this when I come home."

"We will," the man promised, playing along.

"I love you, Dad," Mikaela hung up the phone.

But right before she snapped it shut, Sam caught a glimpse of who she had called: _Capt Lennox_.

Sam shut his eyes in despair. Of all the people she could fake a call to, she had to choose Lennox to confess what they had done. She could have called a school friend or Information or even a bogus number, but no, she had to call Lennox who was sure to pass the information on.

"Okay," the guard nodded in approval. "Go get your shoes and then leave. Consider this your only warning – next time you'll be banned from the premises."

"Believe me, my dad won't let that happen," Mikaela promised, looking so contrite that the guard backed away. "Thank you so much."

She and Sam walked down the hall, careful not to hold hands or walk too close together. The moment they were out in the main shopping part, Sam hissed,

"Why did you call Lennox?"

"Because he's the only one smart enough to catch on," Mikaela whispered back. "Everyone else wouldn't get it, and I don't know how to call the Autobots. Lennox will be cool with it."

"Lennox will tell them," Sam returned.

"So what?" Mikaela shrugged "We got caught kissing in a mall – big deal. I got us out of it without having to run away."

"I wanted to get out of there," Sam tried to defend himself, but Mikaela rolled her eyes again.

"I'm in a mini skirt and platform sandals," she told him. "How was I supposed to run with you? Besides if you run, you're guilty."

"And if you lie, you're just a –" Sam broke off at the look she gave him. "Sorry. Thanks for getting us out of there."

Mikaela found her shoe shop and began trying on shoes, some kind of high thing with straps and clips that Sam wasn't sure how she would ever fit her foot into, but she got it on. The sales woman brought out several sizes, and Mikaela asked her opinion about the shoes, the brown or tan, the heels or the flats, and Sam tried to look interested in the pictures of beautiful models in shoes and not to look impatient.

When Mikaela finally chose two pairs, the sales woman took them to register and rang them up. Sam stuck his hand in his pocket for the 45 dollars he had stuck in there.

"That will be 152.95," the sales woman said with a smile.

"As in dollars?" Sam burst out. He stared at the digital green numbers on top of the machine. "She's only buying two pairs, and they're not Jordans, you know."

"Sam," Mikaela shook her head. She reached into her purse and took out a card.

"Where did you get a credit card?" Sam tried to look at it, but Mikaela handed it to the sales woman.

"Never mind," Mikaela tried to hush him. "Sorry, ma'am, my boyfriend doesn't get out often and has no idea what good shoes cost."

The credit card went through with no problem, Mikaela signed, and they left the store with the shoes.

"Where did you get a credit card?" Sam demanded the moment they stepped out.

"It's not a big deal," Mikaela tried to shrug it off, but when Sam insisted she tell him, she admitted, "The Autobots got the military to set me up with an allowance. This card is part of it."

"They give you money?" Sam seethed. "They wouldn't give me a dime, and they give you money?"

"It's not a lot."

"It's enough to spend a hundred and fifty on shoes," Sam declared.

Mikaela stiffened. "I'll have you know," she said in a low tight voice, "that the skirt I'm wearing is from a second-hand store, and this top and purse were on sale, half off. I have saved up for these shoes for a month and I got them because Captain Lennox is inviting us to a government party where I have to dress up. Not all of us have parents who buy us good clothes and pay half for a used car. As you can see, I don't have a car."

Sam felt like an idiot as he hurried to keep up with her determined steps. "Mikaela, hey, wait – I'm sorry, okay? I know I'm being a jerk, but –"

"No," Mikaela turned around to face him so fast Sam had to stumble back a step, "you're being a jackass. I am trying to be patient with you, but you're pushing it."

"I'll do better, I promise," Sam said, wishing he could grab her hand and kiss her.

"Okay, we've got two minutes before we got to meet Bumblebee. Let's put this conversation on hold until we have time to really get into it."

No one had ever said that to Sam before, but he guessed it wasn't good to have your girlfriend say that the two of you were going to have a conversation later about why you were being a jackass. But he nodded along, and they headed for the exit. Bumblebee was waiting at the curb, his engines growling against the pavement.

Mikaela headed for the passenger's door, and Sam got in the driver's seat. He had barely gotten his limbs inside when the door slammed.

"Hey!" Sam protested, but Bumblebee snapped,

"Don't push me, Sam. I just heard what happened in the mall from Captain Lennox."

"It was my fault," Mikaela spoke up as she clutched her boxes of shoes. "We were goofing off, and the security guard thought we making out, but we really were just talking –"

"You don't have to lie for him," Bumblebee said sharply. "Sam knew what he was doing."

"Why am I the only one being yelled at?" Sam demanded.

"You are older," Bumblebee replied as he pulled away from the curve.

"By four months," Sam scoffed.

"I told you not to, and you ignored my orders," the Autobots fumed.

"Your orders?" Sam sneered. "What are you – my drill sergeant? Even Lennox doesn't treat me like this."

"Do not yell at me, Samuel!"

"Whad'cha going to do about it, car?" Sam challenged. "Going to run over me? Pound me into the pavement?"

"Keep tempting me, and you'll find out," Bumblebee roared.

"Guys, stop fighting," Mikaela protested.

"Don't think you're getting off easy," Bumblebee warned her. "I plan to have a word with you about lying, young lady."

Mikaela blinked, and Sam hit the steering wheel with an open hand.

"You can't talk to her like that!"

"I am not her guardian, but all the Autobots have agreed to protect Mikaela and to ensure she behaves and has no further trouble with the authorities. It is the least we can do for her."

Sam looked at Mikaela to see if she was as outraged as he was. Mikaela's eyes were shining with tears, but a tiny smile played around her lips.

"Thank you, Bumblebee," she whispered. "And I'm sorry about the lying. I promise I won't do it again. It's just – I'm used to doing it because I've had to do it for so long –" Mikaela broke off, unable to go on.

"I understand," Bumblebee told her. "But I will talk to Optimus about it. I think you could use someone else to talk to, a female. Perhaps Captain Lennox's wife."

"I like Sarah," Mikaela managed to say in a small voice as she blinked back tears.

"But Sam, you and I will talk later," Bumblebee promised.

Sam slumped back in his seat. He didn't understand why the day had gone so wrong. He didn't understand why Mikaela was crying, yet happy that all the Autobots were trying to control her; he didn't understand why kissing his girlfriend in the mall was such a big deal; and he didn't understand why Bumblebee let Mikaela off and planned to yell at him later. Nothing made sense anymore, but as always, Sam was getting blamed for it. He just hoped Lennox would understand when they met up with him later that night.


	3. Chapter 3 The Base

AN: Just watched the movie again and still love it. I can't wait for the new one next year. I wrote this in Waffle House beside a family with a hollering child so I apologize for any mistakes, but I had trouble concentrating.

Disclaimer: I do not own.

--

Once upon a time, Sam had thought the Autobots were the coolest, most awesome thing that ever happened to him. Once upon a time, Sam had considered himself the luckiest guy to ever walk the face of the earth because he not only got to work with the Autobots, but one of them stayed with him as his car. Once upon a time (probably a month ago), Sam felt like he was on top of the world.

But now as Bumblebee pulled up to the gated area in front of the base and the guard nodded before raising the gate, Sam felt like the uncoolest, unluckiest guy with the weight of the world on his back. Bumblebee had taken them to dinner, a taco place where Sam and Mikaela ate and Bumblebee watched them from the window. The car had pulled so close to the window that Sam wanted to snap at him just to come right through the glass. Bumblebee would have been fine with them eating inside him in the seats, but Sam did not want Mikaela to see him trying to eat Mexican food over a steering wheel. Sam had enough trouble not spilling the food everywhere on the table as it was – he had never managed to eat tacos without half the stuff falling out of the other end.

Mikaela was bright and light-hearted throughout the meal, talking and laughing between bites. Sam forced himself to smile and nod along with her funny stories, seeing no reason to make her miserable, but he could barely stop himself from glancing at his watch every few seconds. Once they were done, Sam waited for her to get a refill of diet soda, and then they got back in Bumblebee to head towards the base.

Sam wasn't sure who owned the base. Military officers seemed to be coming and going all the time, and Captain Lennox acted like he was in charge with Epps working second in command. Yet, the Autobots also came and went from the base, using the huge hangers for repairs or experiments or something to protect someone. Hanger 3, especially seemed the activity for something very important, but Sam never got to see what. When he asked, Bumblebee told him not to worry about it and Lennox said it was classified.

Sam wondered just how classified it could be considered that he was allowed on base, but the adults and the Autobots refused to talk about it. Of the three hangers, the last one at the end of the runway, Hanger 3, was kept locked and guarded at all times. Sam had thought about trying to sneak over and see what was going on inside, but he did not want to risk getting a back full of bullets if he was mistaken for a spy. Mikaela didn't seem to mind all the secrecy – she was happy to be included in anything.

Sure enough, as soon as they pulled up and parked, Mikaela burst into a smile at the sight of Sarah Lennox and her baby.

"Sarah!' Mikaela called as she got out of the car. "Hey, Sarah."

The blond woman turned and lifted her free hand in a wave. She shifted the baby to her hip so she could hug Mikaela with one arm as the teenager ran up. "Hey, Mikaela," Sarah smiled. "Oh, your hair's so pretty today. Mine just a mess," she gestured to her ponytail.

"No, it's beautiful," Mikaela leaned over to lightly squeeze the baby's chubby hand. "She's getting so big."

"Not too close," Sarah warned. "She's going through a hair-pulling stage. I have to keep it back or she would try to yank it out in handfuls. Watch out."

Mikaela jerked back, just in time as Baby Annabelle reached out to grab for Mikaela's dangling locks.

"Not nice," Sarah scolded her daughter. "We don't pull people's hair."

The baby gurgled and then cried, "_Frawbo_!" as Sam came up.

"No, _Sam_," Sarah corrected. "_Sam_. Say _Sam_. Oh, why bother? She can't even say _Mama_ yet."

"Can she say _Dada_?" Mikaela asked, patting the baby's head but careful not to get within arm's reach.

"No, just nonsense at this point," Sarah sighed. "And all the other military babies were trying to speak at this age, but not mine."

"She's just a late bloomer," Mikaela promised. "Next time I'll wear my hair up so I can hold her."

Sam tried to keep from rolling his eyes. Who cared about holding a baby? Or when they talked? They all got there eventually, and he didn't see why Mikaela, hot Mikaela who knew about cars and dressed cool and was so much fun, now was all interested in a baby. Sam glanced back to see Bumblebee driving off, disappearing behind the second hanger.

"Will said you called him today?" Sarah commented as they started walking to the main hanger. "Something about getting caught kissing in the mall?"

"Yeah, some lame security guard found us in the hall and freaked out," Mikaela sighed. "He wanted us to call our parents so I pretended to call Will. Sorry, but I couldn't think of anyone else to call."

"Oh, that fine, but can they do that?" Sarah shifted the baby up higher on her hip. "Make you call a parent for kissing? Kind of strict."

"I don't think technically you can get in trouble for making out in a hall," Mikaela told her. "But I guess no one else wants to see it, and you know security guards. You make any kind of protest and suddenly you're being dragged off the premises for causing trouble or fined for loitering, anything they can throw at you. I thought it was easier to just go along with him than start a fight."

"In that case, try not to do it again," Sarah advised. "Or at least don't get caught." She smiled, almost mischievously.

"I thought we were going to get yelled at here," Mikaela laughed, relieved. "Bumblebee acted like you and Lennox were going to read us the riot act."

"Not me," Sarah walked into the hanger. "And don't let Will fool you with his stern look and military thinking – you wouldn't imagine some of the things _we_ used to do in public places."

Sam glanced ahead where Will was talking to Ironhide, explaining something about the new equipment in the corner of the huge hanger. The Autobot had dropped to its knees, but it still loomed over the captain. However, Lennox didn't seem intimidated, glancing up the Autobot's face every now and then as they talked. Sam doubted that the captain in camouflage fatigue would ever risk doing "things" with his wife in public places.

Lennox caught sight of him, and his serious look deepened to a frown. "Sam," he barked out, "front and center."

Sam was not familiar with all military commands, but he knew that one meant to go stand in front of the captain and wait. As he stepped before Lennox, Sam wondered if he should be saluting, but he didn't really know any military salutes and he didn't want to get it wrong because Lennox might think he was making fun of the army which Sam never wanted him to think.

"Hey," Sam said softly, swallowing, "about the mall –"

"Listen to me," Lennox looked straight at him with eyes like flint, "I don't care what you do at home or even here on the base, but in public you keep a low profile."

"We tried, but –"

"It is hard enough to keep this whole operation quiet after Mission City, but I don't need you risking further exposure. Your orders are to keep quiet and stay out of sight."

"Oh, fine," Sam retorted, though he knew he shouldn't. "Why don't you just keep me locked up, here on base?"

"That was discussed but overruled," Lennox replied before turning away. "Ironhide, when will –"

"Wait, wait," Sam tried to step in front of Lennox, "go back. What was discussed?"

"Your staying here permanently," Lennox replied. "But Bumblebee argued that you should have a normal life, so you stay where you are, for now at least."

"For now?" Sam felt his heartbeat increase. "What about later?"

"That depends on what we decide. All right, Ironhide, so me the new weapons you've designed."

Trying to digest the information, Sam watched Lennox move away, and then Sam protested, "Oh, no, no, no, wait! Who is we, and when are we deciding things about me without me there?"

"It's classified," Lennox told him.

"It's my life," Sam argued.

"Not anymore," Lennox informed him. "You served your country like a soldier – now you have responsibilities to your country."

"Is this what all heroes get?" Sam flung his arms out. "Being manipulated and moved wherever without any say in where you go?"

"Welcome to the military," Lennox flashed him a quick smile.

Sam turned to see what Mikaela thought, but the two women had moved to a far corner of the hanger, and they sat near a playpen where Annabelle played with her toys. Mikaela seemed to be talking very fast to Sarah, and Sarah was nodding along encouragingly and listening carefully to whatever Mikaela was saying.

Women – Sam sighed. It figured that they would leave him when he really needed their support. Lennox wouldn't yell at Mikaela – no, she got to talk to Sarah with the sweet look and supportive smile while Sam had to face the captain who seemed to get sterner everyday.

"Optimus Prime will not be back until later this evening," Ironhide spoke, reminding Sam that he was still there. It seemed silly to not notice the enormous Autobot kneeling that close, but Sam was so focused on Lennox that he forgot Ironhide. "He wants to speak to you as well."

"I said I'm sorry," Sam raised his voice, but Lennox was now looking over some metal contraption that looking like a cross between a machine gun and a telescope.

"It can shoot out missiles up to two miles without the kickback knocking you over," Ironhide explained. "And a single missile can destroy over an acre of land. And it is light enough for you to carry on one shoulder."

"Excellent," Lennox smiled. "I don't know what I would do without you – you're worth a dozen techs drawing up weapon designs."

Realizing that this part of the lecture was over, Sam turned to walk away, but Lennox called out,

"Don't wander off, kid. Epps should be here any moment, and we're going to workout in the training facility."

"What, me?" Sam pointed a finger to his chest.

"Yeah, if you got enough time to be getting into trouble, then you might as well workout with Epps and me and burn off some energy," Lennox explained.

"But – but," Sam searched frantically for an excuse that would let him off from working out with two army officers, "but I didn't bring any gym clothes."

"Oh, that won't be a problem," a voice spoke behind Sam.

He whirled to see the head agent from Sector Seven standing behind him with a smirk.

"Simmons," Sam scowled. "What are you doing here? This classified."

"Then I'm definitely involved," Simmons smiled, looking so snarky and satisfied with himself that Sam wanted to hit him. "After they closed Sector Seven, I was asked to work here on the base."

"Cleaning toilets, I hope," Sam muttered.

"Hardly," Simmons laughed. "For my heroic sacrifices and assistance in the battle, I'm now working as a special advisor and design analyst."

"Ha!" Sam scoffed, unable to think of a good retort. He glanced at Lennox. "Can't he be transferred overseas? To, like, the front of the front line?"

"He's working for us now," Lennox admitted though not as reluctantly as Sam would like.

"Yes, and part of my job is fitting personnel with the appropriate gear," Simmons said, looking very pleased with himself. "With that in mind, voila!"

Simmons gestured to a table where exercise clothes were laid out: loose gyms shorts, a sleeveless shirt, and what looked like a pair of tight swimming trunks.

Sam snorted. "So, you're the wardrobe guy now? You sew all the clothes."

Simmons's dark eyes narrowed. "I will ignore that, and show you the new clothes though I doubt you can wrap your small mind around the brilliancy of my work. The clothes are made with micro-fibers and allow your skin to breathe while you attempt even the hardest work, and the fabric will withstand friction and up to 700 pounds of pressure. You could be hit by a car and the fabric wouldn't snag."

Sam rolled his eyes as Simmons went on and on about the advances they had made with gym clothes. He wanted to just drill the man about the absurdity of his job, but Sam reflected that it was better to have Simmons kept busy with some trivial project than to leave him free to snoop around.

"Fine, I'll wear the clothes," Sam grabbed the shirt and shorts. "And I'll try to get hit by a car just to test the fabric."

"And the undershorts," Simmons nodded to the trunks. "Made especially to give support at all times without inducing chafing –"

"Ugh, you're sick," Sam made a face as he snatched up the undershorts as well.

Simmons glared at him, but told Lennox, "I'll be back at work. I'm stopping by Hanger 3 first."

"Sure thing," Lennox nodded absentmindedly as he examined another weapon Ironhide held out.

"What?" Sam protested. "He gets to go in Hanger 3? You said that it was classified, top secret!"

"It is," Simmons gave his snarky bastard smile as he stepped away. "Enjoy your new training clothes and try to keep up with the army guys, Noodle Arms."

"You take that back," Sam yelled, but Simmons was walking away.

Before Sam could demand why the jerk from Sector Seven got to have special clearance, Epps walked in. The African-American man wore khaki shorts and a green tank top, his muscles bulging through his shirt and down his arms.

"Hey, kid," Epps smiled, showing his white teeth. "You ready to sweat with the dumbbells? I've moved up to the seventy-five-pound free-weights so you can have the fifties. Lennox?"

"One sec and I'm ready," Lennox replied. "You start Sam stretching. We're going to run ten miles on the treadmills before we start with the weights."

"Sure thing," Epps nodded. He headed outside towards Hanger 2 where the gym was set up.

Sam shook his head miserably, but he followed the man, dragging his feet like a teenager walking to his doom.


	4. Chapter 4 The Training

AN: Another chapter, and I'm still developing the characters. For those of you who want the story to move faster, I promise I'm building up to it.

Thank you for all the great feedback.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of this

--

The gym was pretty cool. Sam had not been in a lot of gyms (his parents were more concerned with the yard and the house to have time or money to spend on working out), but he could tell this was a nice one. The machines all looked new, black and shiny with digitals numbers blinking in red. The weight machines also looked new, and there were racks of dumbbells beside padded benches. But worst of all, full-length mirrors completely covered three of the four walls. It was bad enough to work out with soldiers – but to have to watch yourself do it . . .

Sam stared down at the floor as he followed the two guys in, avoiding looking at the mirrors. He had changed into the state-of-the-art exercise clothes and had found yet another reason to hate Simmons. The clothes were not loose, but more fitting than he would like. He looked skinnier than ever, and his knees seemed extra knobby and the rest of his legs were like sticks. He hoped the men wouldn't comment on how he looked, even in a teasing way, because Sam knew he would lose his temper and storm out if they did.

"And I keep telling Sarah," Lennox was saying to Epps, "that she needs to use the gym since it's here and free, free being the most important part."

"Man," Epps shook his head, "you are just begging to sleep on the couch."

"Not like that," Lennox stepped on the last treadmill, gesturing for Sam to take the one in between him and Epps. "I just want her ready, in case we are ever attacked again. If we hadn't won in Mission City . . ."

"Ah, you'll take care of her," Epps laughed as he started his machine. "The first sign of danger, and you'll send Ironhide to protect your family."

"I thought we could all exercise on the days she comes here," Lennox shrugged as his machine began to pick up speed. "But she just wants to talk to Mikaela and fuss over that baby." Lennox tried to look cross, but he was grinning as he thought of Annabelle.

"One baby, spoiled rotten, coming right up," Epps shook his head, smiling as he broke into a run.

"Hell, no," Lennox declared, upping the speed of his machine to 5.5 miles per hour. "As soon as she can walk, I'm going to build her an obstacle course, and she can practice shooting with a water gun."

Epps laughed over the whirl of his treadmill. "You and that baby – you're going to be the possessive father who chases off boys with a metal bat."

"I will not," Lennox declared. "I'll keep a few guns handy in the house – that way I can be sure to hit any boys who come chasing after my daughter."

While the guys were laughing, Sam managed to get his machine on and had sped it up to 4.5 mph which made him break into a light jog. Both men were pounding on their treadmills but breathing evenly, and Sam sped his machine up to 5mph.

Lennox looked much more relaxed as he ran, and he kept joking around with Epps. As he watched the two of them, Sam realized that Lennow was much more a captain when he was around the Autobots. Lennox tended to talk and look very serious with them, especially around Optimus Prime, but now that they were working out, Lennox was joking and grinning with Epps, completely at ease.

Sam would have tried to think more about that, but he found that running on the treadmill took most of his concentration. His legs were killing him, his chest was hurting, and he watched in horror as both Lennox and Epps raised their speeds to 6mph.

"I was just kidding about the ten-mile run," Lennox yelled over the noise of the machines and pounding feet. "We're only going to do five. That way we can run for about an hour with warm-up and cool-down."

Sam managed to nod, but he knew if he raised the speed to 6mph, he would not last. "Let me warm up more," Sam wheezed.

"Sure," Lennox nodded. "Go at your own pace. Don't overdo it. We've trained for a long time, me and Epps. Don't try to keep up if you can't."

Lennox flashed Epps a quick look, and Sam turned just in time to see the tall man grin at Lennox. They were just so condescending – Sam glared at mirror at his own reflection and kept running. He wasn't quitting.

After ten more minutes, just when Sam thought he was about to pass out, he gulped in a huge breath and began pushing the up button of his machine: 5.2, 5.4, 5.6

He could do it, he could make it.

He pushed the machine up to 6mph.

It was like trying to fly on the ground. Sam's legs were moving so fast over the whirling belt he thought his legs might just snap off and run away without him. His chest was getting tighter and tighter, and black spots were dancing in front of his vision. How long could they keep doing this? His machine read 14:52. Forty-five more minutes of this torture? He's wasn't going to make it.

Sam landed on the side of his left foot, and then he knew it was all over. He couldn't catch his balance. The treadmill shot him right off the back, and he flew back to crash against the rack of dumbbells against the wall.

Thankfully, none of the dumbbells or the rack fell on him, but it hurt just the same. He lay on his back, trying to process the pain in his back, shoulders, and left hip while struggling to catch his breath, all while praying the drops of water streaming down his cheeks was sweat and not tears.

"Jeez!" Lennox was suddenly over him. "What the hell was that? It just threw you off."

"You okay, man?" Eps leaned over him as well. "Trying to scare us to death?"

"Help him up," Lennox wrapped a strong hand around Sam's arm, but Epps stopped him.

"Wait, what if something's broken?"

"Oh, man, oh, man," Lennox looked frantic as he ran a sweaty hand through his short hair. "Sam, does anything feel broken?"

"No," Sam sat up painfully, wincing every inch of the way, "just sore."

"What was that, kid?" Epps asked, steadying Sam with a hand on his back. "What happened?"

"I guess I went too fast," Sam admitted shakily.

"I told you to take it slow," Lennox said in loud voice. "You could have been – oh, man, Ratchet is going to kill me. And if he doesn't, Bumblebee will use me a human speed-bump. And Prime's going to freak out. What were you thinking?"

"Hey, just let him catch his breath, okay?" Epps tried to calm Lennox. "Kid just needs a moment."

"Look, I don't know if you realized it," Lennox said shortly to Epps, "but the Autobots kind of got a thing about keeping this kid safe, especially after he nearly took a twenty-story dive to the pavement with the All-Spark and then killed Megatron with it. When I called Bumblebee to talk about the whole mall thing, I mentioned working out, and he told me, fine, but I better watch for the kid. So he's my responsibility."

"I don't need someone watching me," Sam groaned as he rubbed his hip ruefully. "I'm good."

"It wasn't your fault," Epps protested, ignoring Sam. "It was an accident."

"I knew he was going too fast," Lennox glared at Sam.

"Hey, maybe we can hide it," Epps suggested. "We got a tub and an ice machine and a whole nother hour. We fill the tub with ice, put the kid in it, and take him out at the end of the hour. Ice will cover up the bruising."

"I don't want to go in the ice," Sam objected with wide eyes.

"Ratchet can do an x-ray scan thingy," Lennox pointed out. "He'll know, and then we have to explain why we tried to cover up. I'm not covering up anything to twenty-foot robot, and that's final."

"How 'bout a distraction?" Epps suggested. "Get your baby to throw a tantrum and while they looking at the baby, we sneak Sam into your car and drive him home."

"I have no car – I came in Ironhide!" Lennox bellowed.

"I'm fine!" Sam pushed himself to his feet. "It doesn't hurt that much."

He was lying – his whole body was aching, especially his side that hit the metal rack first, but he was not quitting. It was nice to have Lennox not yelling at him, but at the same time, Sam did not want to be treated like a poor helpless kid that everyone babied. At this rate, they'd be putting him in the playpen with Annabelle.

"Let's get back to it," Sam took a step back towards the treadmills, but Lennox clamped a hand on his shoulder.

"No, enough running for today. If you want to continue, let's do something like weights or endurance building."

"Okay," Sam sank gratefully on to a padded bench.

"What weight are you at?" Epps approached the rack Sam had hit.

"Twenty-five," Sam lied.

"Use the fifteens," Lennox advised as he went for the fifties.

Sam wanted to protest that was too light, but when Epps handed him fifteens, one in each hand, totaling thirty pounds, Sam nearly dropped them. He tightened his sweaty hands around them and began to curl them up like Epps and Lennox were doing. The weight wasn't too bad, but as they kept going, Sam found it hard to match their even pace.

"Don't overdo it," Lennox warned again. "If it gets too much, stop or move down to the tens."

Sam knew that whatever happened, he was not moving to the tens. He would pass out first. But the men moved on to other reps, and Sam found it impossible to keep up. One exercise in particular nearly killed him – standing up, arms hanging straight down, then lifting the weights up to the side until the arms were level with the shoulder, and then lowering them slowly. Sam thought it would have been hard enough without weights, but lifting thirty pounds with gravity working against him . . .

He managed to do two complete, but on the third, his arms spasmed and he dropped one of the weight. Of course, it fell right on his left running shoe. It might have broken his foot except the shoes were built extra sturdy (one thing to thank Simmons for), and the weight rolled right off. But again, it hurt.

"Ow," Sam sat back down on the bench.

"What are you doing?" Lennox was beside him in the next second, reaching for his foot. "You dropped the weight on your freaking foot!"

"I know," Sam winced. "Oh, no, no, no, don't take my shoe off. It doesn't hurt."

"Are you trying to kill yourself?" Lennox demanded. "You've got to be careful. These aren't toys – you can't throw them around."

"I know that," Sam said crossly. "I'm just trying to get stronger, become a soldier, like you said."

"You'd never make it into the army -" Lennox broke off suddenly as Epps gave him a furious look. "I mean, forget about it. Let's just get you to Ratchet and see what he says."

"Hell, no," Sam stood up, putting most of his weight on his good foot. "We're finishing this workout. Hand me the tens."

"How 'bout the weight machines?" Epps asked before Lennox could insist they stop. "No one can get hurt on the weight machines."

The first machine Sam sat at had a bar dangling above his head that he had to pull down. Epps set the weight at forty-five pounds, and Sam pulled down on the bar, the weights lift up. It was a little too heavy, but he wasn't going to say anything as Lennox started on an identical machine and began pulling down a hundred pounds.

"Reps of fifteen," Epps told Sam. "Breathe out as you pull down."

By number eight, Sam's arms were killing him, and compounded with the soreness from flying off the treadmill, he was having trouble breathing. On number fifteen, he pulled the bar all the way down to his knees, staring blankly at the thick metal wire that attached the bar to the weights.

Then before he knew what was happening, his sweaty hands lost control of the bar. It jerked up, pulled by the heavy weights, and one side of the bar caught Sam under his right arm, slamming up into his armpit. He jerked back with a howl and fell off the seat to hard floor below. Once again his left hip hit the floor before the rest of his body, and Sam felt nothing but pain.

"The kid's cursed!" Lennox bellowed a few seconds after they helped Sam back to the bench. "This is why kids shouldn't workout. They're going to kill themselves."

"No," Epps disagreed, "this is why you should have a spotter at the gym. Okay, Sam, raise your right arm."

Sam slowly lifted his arm, biting his bottom lip to fight against the pain where the bar had struck him.

"We're done," Lennox announced, throwing his hand up in surrender. "We go out and just beg for mercy. Maybe the Autobots will be kind and let us be car-washers or something like that."

"Grip my fingers," Epps instructed, wrapping Sam's lifted hand around his fingers. "Squeeze as hard as you can."

Sam managed a half-hearted squeeze, and Epps nodded.

"He hasn't damaged anything too much. He'll be bruised, but we were all bruised after Mission City."

"Yeah, and they weren't please," Lennox reminded him. "Maybe we should try the ice."

"No," Sam protested again, "I don't want to quit. Let me try another machine."

"You're crazy if you think I'm ever letting you get within a foot of the machines again," Lennox told him flatly.

"Something easy. You can spot me at a low weight. Come on, I don't want to quit," Sam pleaded.

Lennox took a long breath before saying, "One machine. You screw this one up, and I'm restricting you from all training equipment forever."

Lennox led him to a different machine, and Sam sat down and put his hands on the handle bars as Lennox set the machine at the lowest weight: fifteen pounds.

"Come on, it's stomach crunches," Sam pointed out. "I can do at least fifty pounds."

Lennox gave him a long look and set the weight at thirty-five pounds. Sam began crunching forward slowly, and Lennox stayed close enough to grab the bar should Sam slip. Sam did not slip, and he managed to do thirty before he realized he was shaking so bad from the pain of his recent injuries.

"That's enough," Lennox said in voice that brooked no argument. "We're going to see the Autobots now."

As they headed back to the hanger, Sam found that any pressure at all on his left foot hurt too much, and he began limping. Epps stopped and turned Sam to face him.

"I'll carry you," Epps leaned forward to sling Sam over his left shoulder, but Sam lurched back a space.

"No, I can make it on my own. Just give me a sec."

"We'll both help you," Lennox gingerly lifted Sam's left arm and put it around his own shoulders. Epps did the same with Sam's right arm (Sam hissed as the bruised area hit Epps' rock-like shoulder). Then both men helped him walk to the first hanger, allowing Sam to keep all weight off his hurt foot.

Ironhide was in the hanger with Bumblebee, both in their robot forms, and the women were still in the corner with the baby who was asleep in the playpen, but they all looked up as the three guys came in.

"Sam?" Mikaela jumped to her feet, but Bumblebee was there first.

"What happened?" the yellow Autobots demanded.

"Just had a little trouble my first day," Sam wheezed. "Let me sit down and –"

"Is Ratchet around?" Lennox interrupted.

"He will be here shortly, but I can also help in an emergency," Bumblebee said, his voice tense. "That is why I was appointed guardian. Give him to me."

"No, really, I'm all right," Sam objected, but Epps and Lennox were already releasing him into Bumblebee's outstretched hand.

Sam was a little taller than Bumblebee's hand, but the Autobot had no trouble lifting him up. Sam wasn't sure where he was going, and he was scared for a sec that Bumblebee was going to yell at him, face to face. The fact that Bumblebee's head was huge did not help, and Sam even squirmed to get free for a second. It was stupid to squirm – if he had gotten free, it was fifteen-foot drop to the cement below, but Bumblebee didn't let him go.

"Sam, Sam," the Autobot shook his head, "what have you done to yourself? You're hurt all over."

"It wasn't my –" Sam never got to finished because Bumblebee gently laid Sam facedown against the left side of Autobot's chest, cradling Sam with his enormous hand.

Sam tried to figure out exactly what Bumblebee was doing. With a rush of heat and embarrassment, his sweaty face turning even redder, Sam realized that the Autobot was holding him much like Sarah held her baby when Annabelle was particularly cranky. Sarah would lean the baby against the side of her chest, patting the baby and rocking her back and forth until Annabelle stopped fussing and calmed down.

The idea of Bumblebee trying to do that to him infuriated Sam to no end, and he tried to move enough to kick the Autobot. He was held too tightly to get in a good kick (which was fortunate because he would have been kicking with his hurt foot) and he wanted to yell to be put down, when Bumblebee's chest started . . . humming.

That was the only word Sam could think to describe it. He could feel the ridges of the odd car parts under his stomach, but an odd vibration radiated out of the Autobot. Sam freaked out for a moment, trying to push himself off the metal, afraid something was wrong with Bumblebee. But then the pain started to disappear from Sam's body.

Sam tried to grab onto something, but his fingers just bumped heavily against Bumblebee's chest until they stopped moving completely. All the pain was easing away in the hum from the Autobot; Sam began breathing easily even as his eyelids started to close. He saw the humans watching him from the floor below, their faces concerned and surprised. Then Sam's head thudded lightly against Bumblebee, and his body went limp.

"What did you do to him?" Lennox demanded. "Is he unconscious?"

"He's sleeping while the spark in my chest helps to heal him," Bumble explained. He kept holding Sam as the hum continued, not quite as loud, but still audible. "Ratchet could perform the same thing better – his life spark helps to heal faster, but mine will keep Sam from pain until Ratchet arrives. Which brings me to the question –"

"The kid was just trying to keep up," Epps broke in before Lennox could. "We weren't paying attention, and he's obviously never workout much before, so . . ."

It was always hard to tell facial expression with the Autobots, but Lennox knew Bumblebee was frowning. Next to the Autobots, Sam was the most important thing to Bumblebee, and Lennox was surprised that the yellow Autobot hadn't tossed them across the room for bringing Sam back in such poor condition.

"I will talk to him later about not paying attention," Bumblebee told Lennox, his voice stern. "Sam will answer for his carelessness. But I must know you will show more responsibility in the future, or I will not allow Sam to train with you."

Lennox flushed angrily, and he opened his mouth to tell the Autobot just how much responsibility he had, how many soldiers he led into fighting, how hard he had fought against the Decepticons to save his men. But Epps gave the smallest shake of his head, and Lennox closed his mouth. On the other side of Bumblebee, he saw Sarah watching him. Their baby was asleep in the playpen so she could give him her full attention. Mikaela stood beside her, her eyes full of worry. Ironhide watched silently, ready to step forward if a fight ensued.

Lennox knew you were never supposed to come between a boy and his car, but now he supposed he shouldn't come between a car and his boy. Swallowing his pride, Lennox took a step back, hands up in the air.

"I'm sorry, we weren't paying attention. It won't happen again."

"It had better not," a deep voice rumbled behind them. "We need all of you alive, alert, and ready for what is to come."

A blue and red Autobot stood at the entrance of the hanger. Optimus Prime had arrived.


	5. Chapter 5 The Hanger

Sam's eyes opened slowly, and he blinked at the bright light. A moment later, the high ceiling came into view - a ceiling way, way higher than his room at home.

He realized he was laying on a cot with a blanket tucked over him; the cot was in a corner of the huge hanger. Mikaela sat on a small chair beside him, watching the figures at the other end of the hanger. But when Sam moved, she turned towards him.

"Hey, you're awake," she smiled, showing her white teeth.

Sam tried to sit up and throw the blanket off, but she stopped him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Huh-uh, no, Bumblebee said you had to rest. Rachet is here," she motioned with her head to the other end, "and he wants to scan you before you get up."

"I'm fine," Sam insisted. "Just got banged up in the gym room."

"My sweet klutzy Sam," Mikaela looked sympathetic as she brushed her hand over Sam's head, smoothing back his brown hair. "But no, you're not moving until Rachet comes over. He was all upset at Bumblebee, and then 'Bee tried to explain that Lennox was training with you and Lennox kind of blamed Epps – it was a whole big mess. But Rachet was glad 'Bee made you sleep and he got 'Bee to carry you back here."

Sam winced, hating how babyish it sounded. "How long was I out?"

"About an hour. 'Bee wanted to take you home, but Optimus Prime arrived and he wants to –"

"Optimus Prime is here?" Sam sat straight up. It was bad enough looking like a wimp in front of the army guys and the Autobots, but Sam hated looking weak and pitiful in front of Optimus Prime.

"Take it easy," Mikaela warned, but Sam threw the blanket off and swung his feet to the floor.

"He's awake," a voice said from the other end of the hanger.

A second later, Sam found himself facing Rachet, Bumblebee, Lennox, Epps, and Sarah. They crowded around Sam, enclosing him into a corner and cutting off any chance for escape.

"Lay back down, Sam," Bumblebee directed. "Rachet needs to look at you."

"I'm fine," Sam huffed but he lay back on the cot. He had a feeling that if he did not comply Bumblebee would reach one hand out and pin Sam down on the cot. That was the hard thing about living with the Autobots – they were cool and fast and sleek, but they were big enough to crush his whole body in one hand. And though Sam could not see Optimus, he knew the blue and red Autobot was around somewhere, probably within earshot.

"Hmm," Rachet frowned, his metal face pulling down, "careless again, eh? Boy needs to learn his limits – he won't always have you to take care of him, Bumblebee."

"What does that mean?" Bumblebee demanded. "Are you implying I will leave my post?"

"I'm your post?" Sam scowled. "Not your driver or your friend, but your post?"

"You'll always be my friend," Bumblebee soothed, but Sam sat up again.

"Why, because Optimus told you to?"

"I chose to stay with you. Ironhide went to Lennox, Rachet stays on base, and the others watch from other places, but I chose you."

"Guess we're Ironhide's post," Lennox smiled at Sarah.

"It's okay," she leaned back to put her head on her shoulder. "I like having him around – makes me feel safe when you're gone."

Lennox put his arm around Sarah and pulled her in for a kiss. He looked so protective of her, strong and secure – Sam felt even more annoyed to be sitting on cot with everyone hovered over him.

"Where's Optimus?" Sam stood up.

Before he could even step back, Rachet swooped down with one hand and picked Sam up. "Breathe," the Autobot ordered. "In and out, deep breaths."

He laid Sam facedown over one hand, and Sam could see everyone staring up at him. Why didn't they leave and give him a little privacy? Rachet placed his other huge hand over Sam's back, sandwiching him in between the two hands.

Another hum started, coursing between the two hands though Sam's body. It reminded him of Bumblebee's earlier hum, only Rachet's did not make him go to sleep.

"Why aren't you using the laser eye things?" Sam asked, still wishing everyone would stop watching.

"I can monitor your body's vitals much more closely this way," Rachet answered. "You have eaten more carbs than protein today and have consumed four times the average amount of sugar a human your size should consume in a day."

"It was just a few Ding-Dongs," Sam protested when Bumblebee frowned at him. "And some Fruit-Loops and M&Ms and maybe a candy bar. Don't you guys ever OD on . . . gasoline?"

He was not sure exactly what Autobots ate.

"Also I detect signs of brain over-simulation and lack of REMs. You were playing video games late last night and did not get enough sleep."

"I didn't brush my teeth this morning either – can you tell that?" Sam snapped.

"Ew, Sam," Mikaela made a face. "I kissed you earlier."

"I chewed mint gum before I came to get you," Sam glanced at her.

"Still," Mikaela shook her head.

"Get used to it," Sarah told her. "Guys are slobs and disgusting pigs and leave their clothes all over the house for you to pick up."

"What?" Epps laughed at Lennox. "After all that army training, you're still a slob? What 'til I tell the colonel. He'll have you spit shining your boots again."

"Don't you dare tell the colonel anything," Lennox ordered, letting go of Sarah and taking a fake swing at Epps. With a laugh, Epps ducked, and then the two men pretended to fight which meant lots of moving around and overreacting to harmless swings.

Sarah rolled her eyes, but she was smiling as she watched her husband. "Boys," she shook her head at Mikaela. "They never grow up."

Rachet seemed oblivious to everything else as he handled Sam and kept up that infernal humming. "Keep breathing. We only have a few minutes before Optimus Prime comes back."

At the mention of the Autobots' leader, Sam began squirming, trying to get down. "I'm not sick," he insisted. "I just got banged up in the gym. No, Rachet, don't turn me over."

"Sam," Bumblebee said sternly, "let Rachet work."

Sam huffed and groused, but he stayed still while the Autobot manipulated and twisted and hummed until Sam felt much better. The pain from the gym was mostly gone, and he was relieved when Rachet set him down on his feet.

"He'll be fine, but he's very tired," Rachet told Bumblebee. "After the meeting today, take him home and make sure he goes to bed."

"I can take care of myself, thank you," Sam said as he stood. He did not want to argue too much or he was afraid that he might get picked up again or, worse, put back on the cot.

He went to stand by Mikaela, wishing he was cool enough to put his arm around her all possessively. "What time is it?" he asked.

"Almost midnight," she replied. "We're all waiting for Optimus – oh, here he comes."

Sam watched as the huge blue and red Autobot came in the hanger, walking tall and strong with Ironhide right behind him. The change was noticeable. Conversations stopped as everyone fell silent; Lennox and Epps stood side by side, almost at attention. Lennox looked seconds away from saluting. Rachet and Bumblebee also stood up straight, Bumblebee moving near Sam.

"Thank you all for being patient," Optimus Prime said, his voice strong but quiet. "I have been in communication with several leaders. Right now there is no present threat, but we must keep constant vigil. Mikaela?"

Mikaela jumped slightly, surprised at being spoken to. She had talked to Optimus before and she liked him as much as she respected him, but when they were all in an official meeting, she usually stayed to the sidelines. "Uh, yes, sir?"

"We may be moving you to this base in the near future. I hope you do not object."

"I have to leave my house?" Mikaela asked. "I mean, it's not great, but it's the first time where I have my own room and nobody is stealing, but –"

"Base living can be fun," Sarah told her softly. "You'd be closer to me, and the schooling's better."

Mikaela looked like she wanted to argue, but she trusted Sarah so she just nodded.

"Wait, no," Sam objected. "You can't just push her around like that. She should have a choice in where she goes."

"Which bring us to you," Optimus looked down at Sam. "In all likelihood, we will bring you here to live on base sometime in the next month."

Living on base with Mikaela? And away from his annoying parents? Sam thought that might not be such a bad thing. He wouldn't have to use Bumblebee to go see her, and it would be just the two of them . . .

"I could see that," Sam tried to look casual.

"For the next month," Optimus announced, "we will be in training. The Autobots will work carefully with the military and human civilians to ready ourselves should the Decepticons strike again."

"Great, they're coming back," someone said from the back.

Sam turned to see Agent Simmons standing just inside the hanger.

"Oh, come on," Simmons scoffed. "You're all thinking the same thing. If we prepare for something, it's probably going to happen. I just say we get ready for one grim future and not beat around the bush."

"Does he have to be here?" Sam demanded.

"Hey, kid, I have as much right to be here as you – it's my country, too," Simmons told him.

"Oh, yeah? What about what you tried to do to Bumblebee?" Sam asked. "You tried to freeze him – you could have killed him."

"I was acting on my orders. You have to follow orders, even the ones you give."

The memory of that night returned to Sam. He remembered his voiceless car fighting against the thick wires and ropes while the liquid nitrogen poured down over his car. They had beat him back while Bumblebee struggled for life –

"Well, how 'bout I follow my orders and smash in your face?" Sam challenged.

"I'll knock you clear across the room," Simmons told him.

"Bring it on, buddy," Sam spread his arms out. "I've been healed by the super robots, and I can take out one slimy agent!"

The next few moments were chaos as everyone seemed be talking and moving at once. Epps stepped up to fight Simmons himself only Lennox blocked his way and yelled for him to stand down, soldier! Sarah tried to stop Lennox from fighting, and Mikaela tried to intercede between Sarah and Sam, telling everyone to calm down.

Bumblebee got ready to grab Simmons and throw him across the room for threatening Sam, but Rachet stopped Bumblebee. Optimus Prime thundered for everyone to be quiet, and all the noise woke up Baby Annabelle who started wailing at the top of her lungs from her playpen.

"You woke my baby!" Sarah scolded her husband as he and Epps argued about Simmons.

A few minutes later, Sam found himself pushed into the passenger seat of Bumblebee who had turned back into a car. Sam was sure that Mikaela would get in the front seat, but the door locked and the Camaro pulled out of the hanger.

"What the hell?" Sam demanded. "I started it back there – let me finish it."

Bumblebee made no reply.

"Come on, dude," Sam urged. "I won't really fight him. But he's needs to pay for what he did to you and Mikaela. And me and my parents. We all suffered because of that jerk."

Bumblebee still said nothing.

"You're not talking to me?" Sam said in disbelief. "I'm getting the silent treatment?"

At getting no reply, Sam reached over to turn on the radio. No sound came out of the speaker.

What would happen if he tried to put his fist through the window? It would hurt his hand really bad, but could Bumblebee feel it?

Sam slumped down in his seat for the rest of the drive home. They were about to pull into his driveway when he sat up and asked, "Wait, how is Mikaela getting home?"

"Ironhide will take her," Bumblebee rumbled.

They pulled up and once the car-doors unlocked, Sam got out without a word. He could give the silent treatment, too. He started up the stairs and opened the door, but it swung open and Sam was face to face with his father.

"Dad?" Sam jumped in surprised. "Dad, I – I'm sorry I'm late. I know I'm really late, and I'm sorry."

"It's okay, it's okay," his father assured him. "Come on in."

Mr. Witwicky opened the door up and let Sam into the kitchen. Sam followed, looking around suspiciously. His mother was in the kitchen, fully dressed.

"Hey, honey," his mom smiled. "Are you hungry? Want some food before you go to bed? I could make you some tea or some cereal. You like cereal."

Sam was beginning to feel like he was in the Twilight Zone. "Guys, am I in trouble?"

"Oh, no, honey," Mrs. Witwicky's face was oddly blank, "we're just glad to have you back . . . safe and sound. We worry about you. It's dangerous out there."

"It's dangerous everywhere," his dad corrected. "So be careful."

"Be very careful," his mom warned.

Sam glanced from one parent to another. What did they know? Could they possibly know about the Autobots, and that was the reason they weren't taking his head off for being so late?

"Well, bedtime for you," Mr. Witwicky announced bluntly.

"Upstairs," his mom nodded. "Get some sleep. No playing at the computer."

Sam did not want to press his luck so he headed for the stairs. As he passed his mother, she leaned in to press a kiss on his forehead.

"We love you so much," she told him.

Sam went upstairs and sat down on his bed to think. He was sure his parents didn't know, but if they didn't, how was he ever going to move to the base without them stopping him? Would the military arrange it and make up some story? Or suppose they did know – why wouldn't they have said more to him? They were worried about him, but still let him go out of the house.

When he was younger, he had wanted to ride his bike off their street, but his mom had told him he had to stay on the street until he turned ten. One day, thinking she was busy in the house, he had ridden to the next street, wanting to show his friend the stickers on his new bike.

When he returned, his mom had been waiting on the front steps, her hands on her hips and her eyes stern.

"Samuel Witwicky," she had said in voice that was much too loud because the other kids on the street might hear it, "inside right now."

Once he had trudged inside, she explained to him that he had to be older to go off the street and she had ended her lecture with "It can be dangerous out there – I just want you to be safe." He had agreed with her and said he was sorry, but the bike was locked up for a week because he had disobeyed.

But tonight they hadn't taken away his car. They really hadn't done anything. But why were they so anxious?

Sam reached out and flipped the lights off. His room went dark, and he lay on the bed, listening. After about ten minutes, he heard his parents go to bed, the door down the hall shutting. Outside Bumblebee was silent, probably sleeping or whatever it was for the Autobots to rest up.

It was all getting to be a bit too much. Lennox and Bumblebee and Epps and Mikaela and Simmons and now his own parents – everyone was teaming up against him. And there were all these special meetings and restricted hangers and plans that no one would talk about.

He had saved the world – he, Sam Witwicky, had killed Megatron and won the war, but nobody wanted to recognize that. They would rather treat him like a kid, push him around and hush him up.

Tomorrow Bumblebee would lecture him about his behavior and then he would have to call Mikaela and apologize. And the next time he saw Lennox, it would be all awkward. And then there was Optimus, Rachet, Epps, Sarah – hell, Bumblebee would tell him to apologize to Baby Annabelle at this point.

Fed up, frustrated, and the tiniest bit sore where the weights had hit him, Sam stood up and made a decision. He needed space. He needed time alone without anyone else nearby where he could move and think.

He grabbed whatever money he could find – about thirty-odd dollars and got ready to stuff it in his pocket where he realized he was still wearing the exercise clothes from earlier. Had his parents not even noticed the weird clothes he was wearing, different from those he left in?

A few minutes later he was in jeans and a tee shirt with the money in his pocket. He could see Bumblebee outside his window, the car parked and dark. Sam held his shoes in one hand and opened his bedroom door with the other. They had wooden floors which liked to squeaked, but the way to get out silently was to slide his socked feet along and never lift them up. The stairs were harder – they squeaked at odd places. So he had to slowly lower his body weight, taking about twenty seconds a stair.

Once he got downstairs, he tiptoed in the dark to the front door. He had to push on it to get the lock open without making any noise. And then he had to lift up on the handle as he turned it to get the door to open quietly.

Once outside, he carefully shut the door before surveying the dark street. His mother's bike would be the fastest way to go, but Sam knew it would make noise. He slipped his shoes on and went down the front steps and headed up the sidewalk on the side away from the driveway where his parents' cars and Bumblebee were parked.

As soon as he passed the neighbors' house, Sam broke into a run. After the humiliating experience on the treadmill, he thought he would never want to run again, but here it was different. The street was cool and silent, everyone was gone, and it was just him and the cement sidewalk. He jogged along, enjoying the soft sound of his shoes against the hard surface.

He used to be a loner. He used to want more friends and more girls to talk to and more people to notice him and take him seriously. Now, he just wanted a little space.

He came to the end of his street and turned up the next.

His lungs were a little tight, but he felt great. He was free.

He ran up the next road, now at least a mile from his house.

He would just keep going until he reached somewhere far enough away that he could stop. Maybe he would go back to his home, or maybe he'd just pull a Forrest Gump and keep running. Either way, it was his decision, his choice.

He was completely free.

At that moment, he heard the soft hum of the motor right behind on the street.

Sam kept running, refusing to look back.

The hum continued.

He knew without a doubt that Bumblebee was right behind him. Sam didn't understand how his car had found him so fast, but he just kept running.

Bumblebee followed right behind, his lights off as he kept pace with his runaway ward.


End file.
